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You have no idea how those first baby smiles saved your life.
If you don't have kids, you can't relate to this, but just know that, like it or not, at some point in your infancy, your mum probably wanted to do some damage to you. But she didn't. Nothing fatal anyway, that's obvious.
But don't worry. It doesn't mean she didn't love you. It's just the nature of the beast. A century ago she might have smothered you. And much further back and a bit wilder on the evolutionary scale, she might have eaten you. But now children are to be revered.
She probably doesn't even remember those days, like she can't remember the pain of labour. But I know, 'cause I'm in the thick of it. And I can tell you - labour hurts, and your mum secretly wished you dead - at least once in your little shrivelly-headed dark indigo-eyed life. And she beat herself up inside for it, letting it eat away at her as she forced a light voice and smiled through another game of shaking rattles to keep you entertained.
It's a catch-22. If she loved every second of her time with you, she's must have been a basket-case to find an infant so engrossing. But wavering however briefly into the dark side, acknowledging the joyless moments that make up the tedious days with a baby, means the unspeakable. If she didn't delight in your very existence all the time, then she was a bad mom. And if she wished you didn't exist from time to time, then the heartless bitch should have had you taken away from her to be placed with a good mother.
But that would have killed her.
Because she loved you so much she ached.
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It makes me think of Dr. Doolittle's push-me-pull-me creature (in the original movie). Or the chorus, "Go away...come here..." of an old Alexei Sayle song.
I love them all to death, but I can't stand them! They make me crazy, but I've never felt so much love welling up in me. They keep me from doing what I want to do in my life, and having them so far apart makes for an extended prison stay. But they've taught me more about life than I could have learned from all the books in the world.
I know women whose lives are truly devoted to husband and kids. I'm jealous of the cookies and crafts and tireless games of Crazy 8s. I feel neglectful. I wonder how much it really matters that I understand social theory and philosophy when my kids are having Kraft Dinner again.
But I can't be that kind of mom. And my older kids tell me they wouldn't have it any other way.
So I must be doing something right.
I'm going on that anyway.
13 comments:
Awesome, Sage. Couldn't have said it better.
Excellent post about the catch-22 of parenthood. We all have gone through similiar thoughts @ some point.
And if the pain of labor was etched in our memory, overpopulation would be solved. :P
Sage, I'm the same kind of parent you are. And I don't feel guilty about it, either.
I'm passing your journal entry along to my new-mommy cousin. She's still in the phase of being fascinated by this new little creature (12 days), but it's only a matter of time before she hits that too -- and I want to ensure she knows it's just plain normal.
Whew! I was a bit worried comments would go in the other direction!
No worries , Sage...lol...
yes, yes, yes.
Somewhere I read a comment from Felicity Huffman saying we are no longer fighting the icon of the perfect wife, but we are fighting the icon of the perfect mother. It is socially unacceptable to say that parenting is hard, often boring and alienating. I tried very hard with my first to be Little Ms Perfect, but I've long shaken her off since she was smug and dull. I prefer to be imperfect, allow myself some room to be myself (I blog, therefore I am) and try to enjoy my children too. After all, I do actually love them.
"(I blog, therefore I am) and try to enjoy my children too. After all, I do actually love them."
I blog therefore I am...funny,Charlotte....and yes we do always love them, we just dont always like them, as in any relationship....
Yes, I remember that...very disturbing dichotomy between the immense love for, and the desire, even momentarily, to be rid of, one's baby. It is not much spoken of, and I think that is to the detriment of new mothers (and no doubt fathers too).
Thanks for writing about it.
Well said, Sage.
Wow, that was beautifully moving, Sage. Thanks.
Hey Kactus, nice to see ya here!
On Charlotte's comment - this might seem like conspiratory theory stuff, but it seems to me that after WWII, the whole obsession with spotless houses cleaned by a perfect wife in heels and a pearl necklace was all to keep women so distracted they didn't notice they were usurped in the workplace.
Now that we're on to that noise, and we're kicking some asses in gear to share household responsibilities equitably, the forces that be are using the bad mother myth to keep women worried and distracted again. If we're obsessing about how often we get down on our knees to play with the kids, we're not writing our local Member of Parliament / Congressperson (?), and we're not taking to the streets in protest, and we're not shaking up the system that lets a pedaphile get parole after 2 years.
When I was a kid, moms weren't ever expected to play with their kids. They just fed us and put us to bed. I can't imagine a mom on my street as a child joining us in a game of Barbies.
Get sucked into the mommy wars, start arguing your side in the debates over staying at home vs working, breast vs bottle, at home vs hospital delivery, etc. (or even what a good feminist is) and they've got us fighting amongst ourselves (and leaving them alone) instead of making the world a better place for our children to grown up in. (By "them" above, I don't mean men, but the capitalist political system that is really a pseudo-democracy, a system that doesn't honestly educate its citizens on the facts of each issue, and doesn't listen to them anyway.)
To Kev, Violet and Cheryl, thanx for the comments!
great post.
it's people like you who should be having and raising children - socially conscious, politically aware, smart woman. I'm sure your kids will be really interesting little people.
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